The comet. (Johnson City, Tenn.) 1884-1916, 1887-07-28
What Become of Ht.

sody on ajug OF whiskey, which has
been going the rounds of The secular
press, is told in this suggestive letter :
My Queer Colonel 1T leaked out
that you once sent jug Of whiskey to
friend, labeled with this rhapsody OF
praise to his enemy;
81 send you some OF the most won
deriul whiskey that ever drove the
skeleton from the feast, or painted
landscapes in the brain of men. 1t is
Che mingled souls of wheat and corn.
In it you will find the sunshine and
shadow that chased each other over
the billow fields, the dews of night,
the wealth of summer, and autumn's
content, all golden with imprisoned
light. Drink it, and you will hear the
voice of men and maidens singing the
Harvest home, mingled with the
laughter OF children. Drink it, and
you will feel within your blood the
startled dawns, the dreamy, tawny
dusks of many days For forty-years
this liquid JOY has been within the
happy slaves of oak, longing to touch
the lips of man."
Doubtless, Colonel, you will be glad
to learn what become of it and him.
Well, believing you, he drank Of your
! jug-drank till "the skeleton that took
fright at the feast" stalked in and sat
down at his ireside; drank till the
the dewy landscapes that had mellow
ed the walls OF his home were pilfered
and pawned to paint your arid Gland
scapes in his BRAIN" you told him
it was the "mingled souls of wheat
and corn )" and he drank till it stole
away the last reluctant kernel garner
ed for growing children; drank till
"the mingled souls" Of lust and fam
inc drove out the soul OF love and plen-
ty, and barred the door against return
of hopel
He'd "fnd in it sunshine" you told
him yet he found only shadows there
shadows that wore Shiny skins and
snaky arms, and "chased each other"
in maudlin wrath at MONDAY, and
many perfect days to "tawny dusks )"
"chased" your friend from the old arm
chair to the hard old bench in the
garret, and close beside him CHASED"
the loving woman with the broken
soul, her pinched young John and
little starving Mary So, too, in it he
found, not your pasy "breath of June
the carol of the lark, and the dews OF
night" that kiss the coming corn, but
the frosted shivers of December, the
bark of the wolf at his door, and the
fetid damp of the night of despirel
Then you sang to him of the
"wealth of summer and autumns
rich content" that should twine the
neck of your bourbon chalice but
your song clad his summer in pauper
life, and twined his leahess autumn to
a winter "imprisoned"in darkness.
But still the friend of your fascinat-
ing hatred drank on till, in the dark
rum-cellar and the crawling saw-dust,
he listened for your Harvest home,
and caught the cry of the curse--youl
"men and maidens" in chilling bias.
phemy OF the Master, and hawking
loud their vendable shame with be.
coming burst of unclean melody
Why sir! he drank till the laughter OF
little children" round his knee gurgled
into restless moanlng-died into the
dying child's whispering wall for
breath!
, Drank? Yea, fast and deep he drank
your dreamy" potion off till deel
and fast "within his blood" he "felt'
never "star-led dawn" but forever
the setting Of the sun OF hope-a sink
ing, sinking, toward the midnigh
without a morning; into the tarry
ing-pace of the drunkard, the dam
nation that's endless in its desolation
There, declining enemy, you'll fine
your friend, And the days of his ad
Grafton before your deformed geniu
being spent, he'll muster courage t,
whisper your; "False Ingersoll, i
from out the old earthen vessel ha,
crept one liquid joy to me, it is tina
here look upon its giver eternal,
kenneled beside the offspring of hi'
gift--thy soul weary, scorched
, and quenchless messmate at the feas
of thy betrayed, the host that worship
ed thee and the fast whence the 'skel
eton' shall never departW
!. Truly not yours,
JAMES CLEMENT AMBROSE.
! Evanston, ILL.,
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